The Price of Peace
by KatherineLynn
Summary: AU: The war is over and a marriage must cement the peace. The Lord of the Darkness must marry the Queen of the Light. Draco Malfoy must marry Hermione Granger to keep the peace in the Wizarding World. They must rule together, two sides of different coins. Ancient English AU. Rated M for content and language.
1. Chapter 1: The King's Queen

A/N: This is the first AU I've ever written, so if the parameters of the universe isn't totally easy to understand, please let me know in a review and I will happily try to fix that for you. Here are the basics: the war with Voldemort has come to an end, and the Light and Dark sides are coming together for a truce. This is taking place in the late 1500s, approximately. The Wizarding World has decided to seal their truce with a marriage to unite them. They are supposed to become the King and Queen of the Wizarding World, with almost as much power as the Minister of Magic. Think of this as an ancient marriage of convenience. (This was inspired by The Tudors and an incessant amount of Dramione fanfiction) Hopefully, not too much will be different.

Disclaimer: All J.K. Rowling's.

Chapter One: The King's Queen

The halls of Malfoy Manor had rarely felt colder. Draco kept his eyes fixed on his plate while his parents, his aunt and uncle, and other former Death Eaters, now Soldiers of the Shadows, debated their next best move. The Dark Lord had been defeated less than a week ago, and many of the Soldiers had decided to flee for fear of persecution. Unfortunately for the Ministry of Magic, the Light had so little power by the end of the war that they couldn't even take back the government they had lost. The best thing that was being offered to the Light side, and alternately to the Dark to keep another war from ravaging the Wizarding World was a truce.

Draco Malfoy hated the idea of a truce. It wasn't that he wanted another war to happen; he felt lucky enough that he had survived the end of the war as a double agent in the first place. But he knew that at the helm of the truce would be his father, intent on regaining any power that they had lost during Voldemort's fall. In truth, they had lost all of their power, and since Lucius was getting old, Draco was going to be the one put up on the chopping block as an offering.

"I don't see any alternative," Lucius was saying, his shoulders slumping only slightly. "We must write up our truce as quickly as possible and send it to the Order of the Phoenix before we lose our leverage."

Draco tried not to roll his eyes, but his mother, ever-present, elbowed him sharply. "Behave yourself, son."

"Yes, Mother."

Lucius, scribbling quickly at the parchment, glanced up at his son and wife momentarily at the ripple of sound they caused. Draco's eyes met his and Lucius looked back to the parchment, unwilling to see the unadulterated dislike that resided in his son's visage. With a final flourish, he signed the parchment and handed it to Rodolphus, who poured the wax and pressed the seal.

And with that, Draco's fate was sealed. As soon as his father's chair scraped back from the table, Draco was shoving himself away from the table and exiting the parlor as quickly as he could. His mother had forced him to leave his wand behind in his chambers, and he quickly sought it. He cradled it in his hand lovingly for a second, relishing the feeling of power rising to his fingertips, and Disapparated.

He appeared in Grimmauld Place, which was bustling with activity. He took a few steps back and leaned against the wall, watching the chaos continue, unadulterated, around him. It was almost five minutes before Ginevra Weasley noticed him.

"Did the Dark Side come up with their demands?" She asked, her dirty, tattered robes settling around her in the wake of less movement. "Or are you here to wipe out the victors?"

He smirked. "Oh, do calm yourself, Ginevra. I was hoping that I beat the truce. Father sent it off only moments ago. It's not here yet, is it?"

Harry's voice met him from the living room. "It is now!" He tore open the dark red seal of the Malfoy family and spread the parchment open on the table. Ronald, Ginevra, Remus, and Nymphadora all huddled around him.

"Where is Hermione?" Malfoy asked in the expectant silence. Ron, as usual, colored at the usage of his betrothed's Christian name, but Harry, too engrossed in the treaty, waved Draco up the stairs. He bowed slightly and left the Order to peruse what was surely going to become a famous document in the history of the Wizarding World. Quietly and carefully, to avoid touching the dusty banister, Draco wound his way up the stairs to the room that he most often found Hermione Granger; Sirius's old room, reading a dusty book that was sure to leave marks on her dress.

When she noticed his entrance, she closed the book hastily and curtsied, as was her custom. While Ginevra and Nymphadora, distant relatives of Draco, did not feel the need to curtsy and often let their distaste for him manifest in their lack of courtesy, Hermione Granger did not. Draco bowed his head slightly in response.

"The treaty has arrived," he said, his voice almost sterile with a lack of emotion. Hermione's face lit up, and she curtsied one more time, hurriedly, so that she could rush downstairs and join her friends, but Draco caught her arm softly around the wrist. He was not usually allowed to touch any woman who did not give him express permission, and quickly withdrew his arm.

"What is it, Malfoy?" She asked, her eyes locked on his. His prominence as a Lord of the Wizarding World would dictate that she curtsey and never make eye contact, but she did not follow all of the rules. That was one of the reasons that Draco came to her instead of waiting for the explosion that was sure to happen any second downstairs.

"May I call you Hermione, Miss Granger?" He asked, ever proper. The question that he usually didn't ask alarmed her, and she retreated back to the bed to sit. She gave him an affirming nod.

"I know that we have never been the best of friends," Draco began. "I was a terrible child to you, but I hope you see that your help throughout the war, which consequently helped keep me alive has changed my attitude toward you," he paused momentarily and studied her face. "It has, hasn't it?"

Hermione, ever gracious, lowered her head. "Yes, Malfoy," she said. "You have changed much since our childhood, and I consider you one of my close friends."

Good, that would make this easier. "I know, through experience, that your compulsion for propriety keeps you from responding to me and to others as you would like. I would like for you, at least in my presence, to abstain from the control that you possess, is that alright?"

Hermione's shoulders, ramrod straight, slumped in relief. "Yes, Malfoy, I appreciate it."

"Now, I know that Ronald has made his intentions clear –," an explosion of sound from downstairs shook the floor and Draco grabbed Hermione's wrist again. "Before we are interrupted, I want you to know that I did not ask for this to happen," he said hurriedly. "But it might be the only way, and I trust you."

Hermione did not pull her wrist away but appraised him with a proud look. "I will take that into consideration, for whatever you have done now has aggravated my friends greatly. But I assure you," she said, covering his hand with her own, "That I will not be so judgmental. I have not forgotten that I owe you my life."

"You owe me nothing," Draco said. He removed his hands from hers just as the door was filled with angry Weasleys and Potter.

"Don't think we don't know that this was your intention, Malfoy," Ronald spat, his face almost as red as his ears. Hermione, looking curious, took her accustomed place by Ron's side.

"This treaty is unacceptable," Harry said, his voice much more calm, but his face, if possible, angrier than Ron's. "You can take that back to your father."

Hermione's voice, in the wake of so much tension, sounded small and insignificant. "Can I see the treaty, Harry?" She asked. Harry's eyes went immediately to Ron, who shook his head adamantly. Hermione, catching his movement, snatched the parchment from Harry's hand. "You are not my husband yet, Ronald, and I do not need your permission."

The return of her fire, which was more prominent in the presence of her friends, when the pressure of propriety was less dire, comforted Draco in an inexplicable way. He knew he didn't like the treaty either, but he recognized it as something that could not be changed, a destiny that was already decreed. He only hoped that Hermione would see that, or else the Third Great War would be on their hands again.

Hermione was quickly scanning the parchment while Ronald tried to find a way to endear himself to his fiancé. Draco almost felt bad for him.

"So, Hogwarts will be getting a joint committee, run equally by members of the Dark and the Light, with focuses on the more neutral members, while many of the closest members will be rounded up and put in Azkaban in order for the Light to retake the Ministry," she mused. "This is really masterful work, Draco."

"He didn't have anything to do with the diplomacy," Ron quickly said.

Hermione didn't even look up. "But he did. See, I recognize his handwriting," she looked up and gave him a quick, momentary smile. "At least Hogwarts will be safe for children again."

Draco didn't return the smile. She still hadn't gotten to the bad part yet.

"Soldiers of Shadows will be disbanded as long as the Order of the Phoenix becomes inactive, that sounds reasonable," she read aloud. "And to seal the truce…"

Draco's heartbeat started thundering in his chest.

"Your father is proposing a marriage between the Lord of the Darkness and the Queen of the Light to cement our newfound peace," Hermione directed at Draco. "With your father being married and the Dark Lord vanquished, that makes you the Lord of the Darkness, does it not, Draco?"

His mouth was obscenely dry.

"And the Queen of the Light is the proper name for the title I was given when I was eleven," Hermione said. "The brightest witch of the age."

"It's not happening, you ferret, because Hermione is already engaged," Ron insisted.

"Your father wants me to marry you?" She asked. Her face was mercifully, not angry, and Draco felt his heartbeat slow. "For peace?"

Draco felt the need to bow, "He believes it is the only way to ensure that the Dark and the Light will be fully invested in the future of the community," he said. "It was not my idea, I assure you. I know how you feel about me."

Hermione blushed. "You have no idea how I feel about you, Draco, for you have not asked. It is true that I never thought to marry you, or any man like you. But I do see you as a brave, proud man who was lucky to survive the war, but also helped the war come to a conclusion. On the contrary, I do not think you a bad man, Draco Malfoy. I think you are a great man."

Ron looked like someone was inserting a knife into his guts and turning it. "So, you're going to marry him, then?"

Hermione gave him an appraising look. "I don't see much of an alternative, but I would like a few days to think on it," she directed both to Ron and to Draco. "Can your father allow me that?"

Draco bowed again. "He will have no choice." He took Hermione's hand and pressed a momentary kiss to her knuckles before bowing to the rest of the room. "Thank you for considering the treaty, and I am sorry for how this has turned out."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Now you're not," he snorted. "You're thrilled. Now you can have a war heroine as your wife, and make the Malfoy name even more noble than it already was."

"Ronald!"

"Ronald, I don't think you understand the point of this proposal," Draco said. "I did not choose her. Under normal circumstances, a Malfoy heir would never marry a Granger. This is for the sake of the Wizarding World, not for my own benefit. Try to look at the larger picture before you damn one inconsequential person."

And he was gone, his robes catching around the corner of the dusty room. The silence grew to a deafening volume before Harry spoke.

"Can I speak to Hermione alone, please?" He asked. Ron looked furious, but Ginny grabbed him by the arm and led him out of the room. Harry carefully closed the door before he turned to Hermione. "What do you think about this?"

Hermione gave him a noncommittal shrug.

"Hermione, since you sent your parents to Australia and claimed that they were dead, I have been considered your guardian in society, which means I am the person who approves of your betrothal. I asked you if you were happy being engaged to Ron, and you seemed happy enough. But now the war is over, and the constant threat on your life is done and you seem less than happy with your fiancé.

"I know that living through a war was hard, and love is different on the brink of extinction. I know that you have resigned yourself to marrying Ron, but I would rather you be happy. I don't mind starting a war for you," he nudged her shoulder gently. "But what do you want?"

Hermione's face screwed up in thought before she responded. "I thought I loved Ronald, and maybe I did, maybe I do, I don't know. But I'm young, and so is everyone else. It seems way too early to decide who we want to spend the rest of our lives with. But I know that Ronald would never let me be friends with Draco if we got married because it would be improper. I don't think Draco would be that way."

Harry nodded, trying to keep his emotions off his face. "Do you want to choose a husband that way?"

"I don't see what choice I have," Hermione said. "Ronald and I have been best friends for years, and I just got to become friends with Draco after everything that our world has been through. Being married to either of them wouldn't be terrible, I suppose. But marrying one of them ensures more fighting and death, and marrying the other ensures peace," she glanced back to Harry, who looked resigned. "What do you want me to do?"

"Ron loves you, but he's impatient. He's been…" Harry struggled, "courting other girls. He takes them out for tea, takes them for walks, he goes riding with them," Hermione flinched. "I know that you have been postponing your wedding because you didn't think you were ready. But I don't think Ron is either. I'm not saying that Malfoy is a better person, because you know I will never say that," Hermione chuckled. "But his future also depends on this marriage. I think we should add a fidelity clause to this treaty and accept it. Don't you?"

Hermione gave Harry a watery smile. "Let's save the Wizarding World one more time, Harry."

It was less than two minutes after Harry left Hermione alone in her room before Ronald burst into her room again.

"Ronald," Hermione curtsied. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course everything is not okay," he exploded. "You're going to marry that supremacist, aren't you?"

Hermione lowered her head. "I don't have a choice," she said. "I know that this is upsetting for you, but"

"Upsetting?" Ron repeated. "I have loved you since we were children and you're just going to throw that away for what, for a lord? For a crown?" His face had distorted to almost purple, and Hermione could feel his magic bubbling up. "I never thought you were one to marry for money, Hermione, but I guess I chose wrong."

A loud bang filled the room with smoke and Hermione coughed, waving her hands before her to dispel it. When it cleared, she found Ronald on the floor, unconscious. She hadn't felt the magic in her for long before it exploded out of her. She knelt next to Ronald and felt the back of his head for blood and found none.

"What in the bloody hell is going on in here?" Harry charged up the staircase. "Hermione, what did you do?"

Hermione frowned. "I don't know. He was insulting me and my magic just…attacked him. I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to hurt him."

Harry smiled gently at her. "Don't worry about it, you couldn't control it. Let's put him on his bed and hope he wakes up with better sense."

"She asked for a few days to consider the offer," Draco said, bowing low to his father. "But she said that she did not see any alternative other than acceptance."

Lucius smirked, looking very much like his son. "Good, Draco. Your mother has already started the wedding preparations, and your coronation will happen immediately after."

Draco bowed low once more.

"Master Malfoy," Theodore Nott said from the doorway, "Harry Potter is here to speak with Draco."

Draco turned to find Harry standing next to Theodore, looking imperious but otherwise friendly. Bowing once more to his father who gave him permission to leave, Draco followed Theodore and Harry into the drawing room.

"Thank you, Theo," Draco dismissed him. Theodore inclined his head in response and left, closing the door behind him.

"She changed her mind, didn't she?" Draco said resignedly. "She's going to marry Ronald instead?"

Harry smiled. "No, she has not changed her mind. But there are a few things I would like to add to the truce."

Draco nodded. He had expected something to this effect. "I'm listening, Harry. What would you have me include?"

"Hermione is my responsibility now that her parents are gone," Harry reasoned, "and I'm assuming that the two of you will be married under the Unbreakable Vow, since that is the custom, which means this will be the only marriage that Hermione will ever have."

Draco nodded. "Yes, but what does that have to do with the truce?"

"I want a fidelity clause that says you will remain faithful to your wife," Harry said. "I don't want her to be humiliated in society because she tried to save the world again."

Draco smirked. "I did not expect that. You are a good guardian to her, Harry."

"I'm not finished."

"Then by all means, continue."

"I want there to be a short engagement period where you court her," Harry said. "She accepted Ronald's proposal a long time ago and his courtship abilities have fallen way short of my own expectations, much less hers. I want you to make her feel special, and make this marriage feel less like a marriage of convenience."

Draco nodded again.

"She will never have a marriage of love, and she deserves everything that she could have had. If you take these caveats to your father and he agrees, then consider the truce accepted and signed."


	2. Chapter 2: Smoke and Mirrors

A/N: Thank you for your friendly reviews! I hope that I continue to inspire you to click that little button!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter Two: Smoke and Mirrors

"You cannot be serious," Ronald was saying. Hermione ignored him and continued with her needlework. She found it increased her aim with a wand. "You cannot seriously be considering a marriage to Malfoy."

Hermione did not respond. Ronald huffed impatiently and pulled the needle from her hand.

"I'm serious, Hermione, it's obvious that he's only doing this to be a prat. You don't have to go through with it."

Hermione have him a narrow-eyed glare and held out her hand for her needle. "Give it back, Ronald," she said firmly. Ronald ignored her and continued to harbor the needle.

"You already agreed to marry me, Hermione, you cannot simply break an engagement."

When he noticed that she was digging through one of her drawers for another needle, Ronald grabbed the whole needlepoint from her and threw it to the other side of the room. Hermione shouted in indignation.

"It's time for you to speak, Hermione," Ronald said, his voice lowering. His ears were turning red. "I am trying to have a conversation with you."

"I am not participating in that conversation because anything that I have to say will do nothing but upset you," Hermione said calmly. "Now be a gentleman and give me back my needlepoint."

"Not until you tell me why you're going to marry him."

"Ronald, either you give me back my needlepoint and leave me be or I will make you regret it," Hermione growled. "I do not have to explain myself to you."

"Yes you do!" Ronald roared. "I am your fiancé!"

"Not anymore!" Hermione shouted back.

The silence rang in the air for a few solid seconds before Hermione continued. "I'm sorry that this is upsetting to you, and it is to me as well, but I cannot with due conscience decline the truce's proposal. This is not about you and me, this is about the entire Wizarding World. This is for peace, why can't you see that?"

"Because I'm smart enough to see it for what it is: a ploy for you," Ron shouted. "Why are you so blind to this? You are not that monumental that your marriage will keep the peace forever! Neither is he!"

Hermione's face went stony. "Well, I'm sorry that you do not think that I am important enough to aid in the reconstruction of the Wizarding World, but it seems like you are the only person who feels that way. No one else has questioned the legitimacy of the proposal but you, who is drowning in jealousy and insecurity."

"Well said, Miss Granger," came Draco's voice from the doorway. Ron rounded on him immediately.

"No one gave you permission to enter this room, Malfoy," he growled. "Get out."

Draco did not flinch, and did not bow to Ronald. "I believe it is the lady's room, and she may dictate my place in the house," he turned to Hermione, "I came to ask you to take a walk with me, but it seems you are busy." He strode over to the corner of the room where Ronald had thrown her needlepoint and retrieved it for her. He placed it gently on the desk beside Hermione. "I will be waiting for you downstairs."

"Wait, Malfoy," Hermione called. When he turned back to her, she curtsied quickly before continuing. "You've come courting? But we are already betrothed, you do not have to abide by tradition."

Ronald let out a loud, derisive snort from the corner of the room.

Draco gave her a smirk. "Well, Potter made it clear that I was supposed to make this engagement a memorable one, as it will be your last," he said, turning his head from Ronald as he spoke. "I am only honoring his request."

Hermione blushed. "I appreciate the sentiment, but you needn't waste your time," she said softly.

"I never waste my time," Draco said before turning his back on her once more. "I will be downstairs."

Ronald laughed mirthlessly as Draco went carefully down the stairs to avoid the dust. "Oh, how convenient that your precious lord has come to your rescue as soon as you want to exit an argument."

Draco, as he was continuing down the stairs, could hear Hermione's sarcastic shriek. "Yes, because I need so much help to defeat you in anything, Ronald!"

"Hermione, get ahold of yourself –,"

"You know what? I don't think I like you using my Christian name. From now on, you will refer to me as Miss Granger unless I tell you specifically to do otherwise."

Draco let out a low whistle from his eavesdropping point on the stairs. The silence that greeted her response was unnerving before he heard Ronald explode.

"Oh yes, Miss Granger, let me just make your food and wash your clothes and draw you a bath, Miss Granger, or should I call you Madam Malfoy now? Since you're so important now, how can you ever deign to spend any time with such a lowly speck such as a poor Weasley?"

Hermione's voice was unsteady, but she spoke anyway. "I have no problem with Weasleys, I have a problem with you. And in case you've forgotten, I don't exactly have a huge dowry."

"Right, but when Lord Malfoy can give you so much, who needs a dowry, right?"

Instead of a high pitched retort, Draco heard a crash that shook the foundations of Grimmauld Place. He paused for a few seconds, allowing whatever was going on to finish.

"Miss Granger?" He called tentatively. A sob answered him and he was suddenly flying up the stairs to the room he had so recently vacated.

Ronald was unconscious, stuck to the ceiling of the bedroom, his head lolling forward. Hermione was on the other side of the room, curled up on the floor, shaking her head and crying hysterically. Draco kneeled beside her and gently grabbed one hand. He cradled it softly in his own until her crying subsided.

"It's okay, Miss Granger, no one is going to get angry at you for losing control," he said soothingly. "You haven't had time to release pent up magic in a while, and it was bound to happen when you got frazzled. Now, I'm sure if you concentrate, you can drop Ronald back down to the floor. Can you try that for me?"

Hermione, hiccupping, nodded and closed her eyes. Instead of Ronald falling gracelessly to the ground, however, she levitated him gently to her bed and placed him gently on the pillows.

Draco was impressed. Oftentimes, women were not allowed to do magic outside of household chores. During the war, that sentiment changed because the number of wizards was dwindling and more fighters were needed. Hermione Granger proved to be one of the greatest fighters the Wizarding World had ever seen, with such a vast expanse of magic that she could barely control it once it was unleashed.

Already a small puddle of blood was forming underneath Ronald's head, and unwilling to frighten Hermione more, Draco stood and began to heal the mild head wound that he had suffered slamming into the ceiling.

"Is he going to be okay?" Hermione's small voice asked from her spot on the floor. Draco turned to her with an almost angry expression.

"You have accepted our betrothal, am I correct, Miss Granger?"

"Hermione," she assented.

"Right, Hermione. So, as your future husband, I am giving you permission to use your magic however you wish whenever Ronald Weasley is in your presence. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded, more tears falling down her face.

"Now now, why the tears?" Draco asked. "Is doing magic so horrible for you?"

Hermione sniffled. "No, but no one has ever given me free reign to use my magic with anyone before."

Draco was astonished. "Not even Potter?"

Hermione shook her head. "He never thought about it, I think. And he was afraid of what would happen when I lost control."

"Well, I'm going to give you permission to use your magic whenever you please," Draco said, unleashing another wave of tears from Hermione. "Now please stop crying, I have a surprise for you."

Hermione slowly sniffed her way into silence and took Draco's offered hand. "What is it?" She asked.

"Have you ever done Side-Along Apparition?" Draco asked instead. Hermione nodded. "Well then hold on."

They appeared in a bare room with nothing but black on the walls. Hermione looked around, confused, before Draco decided to take pity on her.

"This is a training room," he said. Hermione's eyes began to widen and she began to redden.

"No, Malfoy, I cannot let you do this," she said.

Draco stepped closer to her so they were only a breath apart. "Are you afraid of me?" He asked, his voice low and husky. Hermione's face, already pink, flushed even redder and Draco smirked proudly.

"No," she whispered. "But I shouldn't…"

Draco's hand came up to brush a stray hair out her eyes. "Shouldn't what?" He asked, his voice so soft it was almost an exhalation. "Are you going to reject my gift?"

Hermione shook her head once. "Of course not," she whispered.

Draco smiled. "Then suit up, Miss Granger." He directed her to a small room next to the training room and pointed out sets of black pants and black shirts, all her size, that she was expected to wear. Hermione, who had never been allowed to wear pants outside of wartime, took longer than usual preparing herself to go back into the training room.

When she finally grew the courage, Draco was already leaning against the wall in all black, flipping his wand in between his nimble fingers. Hermione swallowed thickly as his eyes raked down her form, taking in the curves that were usually hidden by skirts.

"By Merlin, you are a sight to behold, Hermione," he breathed. Hermione blushed brilliantly, and Draco found himself blushing as well. "Forgive me, I am used to speaking my mind."

"Well, I give you permission to always speak your mind with me," Hermione responded.

"Thank you. Now draw your wand."

Hermione tentatively drew her wand and held it in front of her. Draco smiled bracingly.

"Come now, hold it like you're going to fight me," he said amiably. Hermione held the wand a little tighter, and Draco tilted his head, confused at her timidness. The Hermione he had seen on the battlefield was ruthless, she didn't cower.

"Expelliarmus," he said at a normal volume. Hermione did not respond, but let her wand fly slowly out of her hand and land in Draco's. "Now, are you even going to try to stop me?" He asked.

"Malfoy, I don't think this is a good idea," Hermione stammered. Draco groaned. "I appreciate the gift, but I really do not feel comfortable."

"Hermione, do you realize what happened today, with the Weasel?" Draco asked, his voice harsh.

"Don't call him that."

"Do you realize what happened with that ginger-haired monstrosity?" Draco said, louder over her protestations. "You knocked him out because you haven't let out your pent up magic energy. You need to do this!"

"I can't."

Draco raised his wand so it was even with Hermione's face. "Hex me," he commanded.

"No."

Sparks flew out of his wand and Hermione flinched. "Hex me, or I swear to Merlin, I will hex you," he said, louder.

"I can't."

He pressed forward, causing Hermione to retreat, tripping over her boots until her back hit the wall of the training room. He was breathing hard, frustrated with her stubbornness, but he admired the strong set of her jaw, her fiery eyes. His wand lowered to her chest, and his voice lowered. "I can't help you unless you let me," he said. "This is a huge step for women's rights, Miss Granger. Think of how many women you'll be holding back if you don't do this."

She rolled her eyes. "That was low."

Draco didn't answer. He stepped, if possible, even closer to Hermione, so that their chests were brushing, and lowered his face slowly to her ear. He felt her face warm, the blood rushing to her cheeks once more. He laughed, a low, throaty chuckle into her ear, and sparks flew out of the end of her wand. She closed her eyes and sighed, her breath sparking like her wand.

"Let it out, Hermione," he coaxed in her ear. She sighed again, and this time smoke rose from the floor, engulfing them both. Draco smirked as she opened her brown, catlike eyes and melted into the smoke.

"That's my girl," he said, his wand at the ready. "Now hex me."

Her voice came from behind him. "Why would I want to do that?"

He whirled around to meet it, but he still couldn't see her. "That's the whole point of the exercise, Hermione, to let out your magic."

"Can I ask you a question?" Her voice came from above him and Draco felt uneasiness mixed with pride fill his chest. "Why did you decide to marry me?"

He paused momentarily, lowering his wand. Almost as soon as he did, a jet of light came flying at him. He ducked to dodge it. "I didn't choose you, my father and the council did. I thought you were the best choice, but I didn't think you'd accept."

Her voice was all around him now, filling him up and spilling over, rich and low. "And if I didn't accept?"

Draco shrugged. "Then we wouldn't be here now. And a Third Great War would be on our hands." He found it harder and harder to focus on the duel and lowered his wand. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you don't love me," she said simply, her voice still rich with emotion and magic.

Draco shook his head. "You're right, I don't. But you're my friend, and I think that's the best that we can hope for, in a time like this."

Her voice paused, and the smoke started dissipating. Draco decided to press his advantage.

"Did you really want to marry Weasley?" He asked, spinning around gracefully, waiting for her voice.

"I thought I did," she said, and her voice was normal again. "But the longer I spend away from him, the more I like it."

"That's how I've always seen it."

Her voice was filled with magic momentarily, but a different kind, as she laughed. "He will always be my friend, when he accepts this."

Draco felt a swooping sensation fill him that felt remarkably like using magic at her words. If she could accept Ronald for all of the things he had done to her through the years, then maybe she could accept him too. Maybe being married to someone as un-judgmental as Hermione Granger would be good for him. Maybe she would be good for him.

"Miss Granger, I do believe you are going to do wonders for a terrible boy like me," he said, hoping that could convey his gratitude.

Her voice was closer now, and the smoke almost gone. He could almost see her outline. "You aren't a boy anymore, are you, Malfoy? You're a man, almost a man married. You chose your fate in the war, and decided to risk your life for the greater good. That's not what a boy does, that's what a man does."

"And what does this woman," he indicated Hermione, "want to do with this man," he pointed to himself, "now?"

Her small hand, the one not holding a wand, took his and gently stroked it. He felt the unfamiliar feeling of blood rushing to his face. She gave him a perfectly wicked smile and whispered, "Expelliarmus," and claimed his wand.

"I don't know, Draco, what do losers do when they lose a duel to a girl?" She asked, her voice full of that magic that Draco couldn't identify. He found himself smiling in spite of himself.

"Why, Miss Granger, I do believe you should have been a Slytherin," Draco replied. "How about we have some tea?"

She took his hand again, and this time, she was handing back his wand. "I think that sounds lovely, Draco," his name falling smoothly out of her mouth. Draco shivered at the sound of his name used so intimately. "Take me there."

"Are you really going to let Hermione marry that snake?" Ginevra asked over tea. Harry Potter sipped his tea and placed the cup down on the saucer before he considered her question.

"I've spoken to her and she seems perfectly at ease with the possibilities," he answered. Ginevra rolled her eyes. "I don't understand what this attitude is about," he continued. "Draco Malfoy proved himself to be indispensible during the war, and he has been a perfect gentleman since then."

"He's a pureblood supremacist and a renowned playboy," she insisted. "Ronald is pitching a fit."

Now it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Yes, I'm aware. He is also trying to get me to call Hermione home so that he can have another conversation with her, but the last one ended with him unconscious. I don't think them having a conversation is a good idea for a while."

Ginevra placed her delicate hand over Harry's. "I just want Hermione to be happy."

Harry sighed and put his other hand on top of Ginevra's. "Me too, sweetheart, me too. But so far, she seems happy."

She pulled her hand away. "Impossible."

Harry nodded understandingly. "I know it seems that way, but she told me herself that Malfoy is going to help her change the world, and I believe her. We just need to help other people see that, including you," he smiled bracingly. "You are pretty scary."

Ginevra growled. "I am not!"

Harry smiled. "You are. But I love you anyway. Come on, we have our own wedding arrangements to look into."


	3. Chapter 3: Very Improper

A/N: Thank you guys for the wonderful reviews, they make me so happy! I'm glad that everyone is happy with this story thus far, and don't worry, we'll get to the M chapters soon enough, I just want to set up Draco and Hermione's relationship a little bit before we get there.

Disclaimer: Noooope.

Chapter Three: Very Improper

"Miss Granger, Lord Malfoy requests the honor of your presence at the wedding of Ginevra Weasley to Harry Potter," the messenger read from an engraved invitation. "He invites you to wear the dress that he commissioned especially for that day, and hopes that you find everything to your convenience."

Hermione blushed brilliantly as the messenger passed her a box with a large golden bow on top and took his leave. Ginny rushed to her side.

"He got you another present?" She gushed. "Open it, open it!"

In the weeks following Draco and Hermione's betrothal, he had taken it upon himself to take her to society events, presenting her as his fiancée to the lords and ladies of the Wizarding World, to teas, luncheons, dances, and even on solitary walks with him through the Malfoy Manor gardens, where she was constantly lost in the fragrances of roses and lilies. Ginevra, recognizing a gentleman, immediately changed her attitude toward Draco and encouraged his courtship of Hermione. Hermione, confused by the attention, was forced to accept the gifts and outings in stride, and found that she liked his company so much that she didn't mind.

Ronald, still furious with his former fiancée, was often shut up in his room at Grimmauld Place, refusing to attend society events where Draco and Hermione would be, and had even gone so far as to insist that Ginevra uninvite them from the wedding.

Hermione gingerly untied the bow to the present while Ginevra fidgeted next to her. "Come on, Hermione, open it!" She crowed in excitement. This was Hermione's favorite part of any gift that she got: driving Ginevra mad with it.

She took so long to lift the top of the box that Ginevra was the one who wrenched the top from the rest of the box.

The gown was heavy silk, the finest in the Wizarding World, and a deep plum color, with gold trim.

"The color of royalty," Ginevra said knowingly, nudging Hermione. "You're going to look fabulous in it, Hermione," she added, hugging her.

"Of course she will," came Ronald's sullen voice from the doorway, "Because she'll have all the beauty Galleons can buy."

"Grow up, Ronald," Ginevra replied.

"Don't mind me, I just came down here for food, since I'm apparently a prisoner in my own house," he answered with distaste, pushing past Hermione to get to the kitchen.

"It isn't your house," Hermione retorted without looking at him. "It's Harry's."

Ronald didn't deign to answer her, but instead grabbed a plate of food and retreated back to his room. Ginevra watched him go, disgust evident on her face. As soon as he was out of sight, her smile leapt back onto her lips.

"Come on, let's go for a walk," she said, tugging Hermione toward the door. "We can use the new parasol that Draco bought for you," she said, nudging Hermione playfully.

Hermione chuckled. "I'd love to, but I can't. Draco is taking me to the Manor today."

A loud thud came from up the stairs. Ronald has slammed his door shut.

"Ooh," Ginevra said loudly in her excitement. "You go to the Manor a lot, Hermione, people are going to think you're being improper."

Hermione blushed brilliantly. "I am not being improper, Ginevra Weasley, stop your silliness!"

"She's right," Draco's voice said from the front door. "No matter how much I encourage her, she refuses to be improper."

Hermione laughed. "When did you get here, eavesdropper?"

"Probably a second after Ginevra here accused you of being improper. I have mastered the art of silent Apparition, and it comes in very handy sometimes. Like when I'm spying on my fiancée," he said, kissing Hermione's hand lightly. "Shall we?"

Hermione waved to Ginevra, who winked at her.

"Hold on tight," Draco said from her side. Hermione clutched his arm and felt the familiar uncomfortable sensation of being squeezed through a tube. The Manor materialized beside her and she almost stumbled, but Draco's arm held her upright.

"You're getting better," he said. "Come on, our training room awaits."

He had been bringing her there once a week for the past month. She had begun to finally use her magic in a way that she was comfortable, and never hesitated to hex him when he hexed her. They never used anything that would hurt the other, simply small jets of light and some smaller spells. Draco found he was incredibly interested in the way she moved, the way her body responded to her magic, and how both her body and her magic responded to him.

He turned around to head to his own dressing room when a jet of light flew over his shoulder. He turned around, amused and incredulous, to find Hermione holding her wand up, ready for a fight, still in her dress.

"What?" She said to his expression. "Do you need special clothes to fight? The Draco from the war didn't."

He gave her a smirk and raised his wand. "Fine, if that's the way you want it."

She gave him a smirk that almost rivaled his own before firing purple light at him. He had to jump to avoid it, and she had already spun, planted her feet, and fired another spell. Her firing speed was too fast, and he knew he was never going to keep up with her today. Non-verbally, he put up a Shield Charm and began to fire back, her spells newly blocked. She dodged them all manually, without a shield, and he began to fire them creatively just to see how she would dodge. His Jelly Legs Jinx sent her spinning in the air, her skirts twirling around her, and he found himself impossibly infatuated with the way she moved.

He pushed himself closer to her, in peril of her jinxes, until she was forced to step back. When she knew the wall was getting too close, she attacked Malfoy in a way he never expected.

Muggle-style.

She swept his feet out from under him so fast he couldn't even think to dodge it before he was hitting the ground. In a flurry of motion she was on her knees in front of him, wand poking him in the throat.

"I win," she said superiorly. Malfoy smirked and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to the floor with him. She yelped loudly and crashed to the floor. Malfoy took her original position but placed the wand gently on her cheek.

"I win."

Her chest was heaving with hastily taken breaths, and her hair a wild flurry of curls around her. He found his wand hand slowly going back to his side and touched her cheek with his hand instead of his wand. Her skin was impossibly soft. Her little pink lips parted with her breathing, and he couldn't take his eyes off of them. He felt his body respond and wondered if he would explode if he didn't kiss her.

He decided to test it, and stood up, holding out a hand for her to take. She looked disappointed, but took his hand anyway. He brushed himself off, and watched way too closely as she did the same. He swallowed thickly.

"We should probably get back to Grimmauld Place," she said, her voice hoarse. He found it impossibly sexy. "Ginny will be getting prepared for her wedding soon, and I promised that I'd help her."

Draco nodded because he didn't trust his voice. He held his arm out to her to take and Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

Ginevra was in the parlor when they appeared. She stared at Draco, and back at Hermione, and back again. "What's wrong with you two?" She asked. "You look like you got Stunned."

Hermione muttered something that Draco couldn't understand and fled upstairs to her room. Ginevra gave Draco a raised eyebrow stare that he couldn't return.

"I'll uh…I'll be back in a couple of hours," he said. Ginevra nodded, eyebrows still raised, and watched him Disapparate.

"Hermione, what did you do to that poor man?" She asked with a laugh in her voice. Hermione, in the other room, groaned in embarrassment and did not reply. Ginevra, sensing gossip, plowed up the stairs gracelessly and shoved open Hermione's door. She was lying on the bed, her face buried in her pillows.

"Hermione, that's undignified," Ginevra said disapprovingly. "Get your face out of those pillows and tell me what you've done."

"I didn't do anything, Ginny," Hermione said, her voice muffled.

Ginevra smirked. "Then what did you want him to do?"

"Ginny!"

Ginevra held up her hands in surrender. "It's an honest question. He looked ready to devour you, and you looked horribly embarrassed, which means you wanted it," she said matter-of-factly. "The best thing you can do is talk about it."

Hermione, face still buried in the pillows, barked a short laugh. "I doubt it."

"Come on, Hermione, you're my only female friend," Ginevra pleaded. "Give me something!"

Finally, Hermione unburied herself from the pillows. "Ginny, how do you make a man…" she trailed off.

Ginevra smiled. "How do I make a man….what, Hermione?"

"You know."

"I do not."

"Ginny!"

Ginevra smirked. "So, you like him now, is that it? I thought all you were hoping for was friendship."

Hermione blushed. "But isn't this what we're supposed to have when we get married?"

"And what exactly is that?" Ginevra asked teasingly.

Hermione buried her face in the pillows again.

"If you're talking about sexual tension, then yes, that is something you want," Ginevra said, dropping all pretense. "You want to be able to do your duty with the man you marry, Hermione, or how else will you have children?"

Hermione's face turned, if possible, even redder.

"I know that you are the girl that always wanted to wait until marriage to lose your virginity, but he is your fiancé, I don't think anyone would condemn you," Ginevra reasoned.

"I am not going to have sex with him," Hermione insisted.

Ginevra gave her a knowing smile. "Well, once you kiss him, you won't be able to stop yourself," she said. "I can see it in your face, and his. Just get it over with, make yourself happy," she placed her hand gently on Hermione's shoulder. "Now, help me get dressed for my wedding so I can make you look so breathtaking that Draco Malfoy is begging to take off your clothes by the end of the night."

"Ginny!"

**~DM&HG~**

"Harry, do you think I'm an arse?"

Harry chuckled as he fastened the bowtie on his dress robes. "Absolutely, Ron, but why do you ask?"

"I'm serious."

"So am I," Harry turned to face his best friend, who looked more troubled than Harry had ever seen him. "Why, what's going on?"

"I can't let Hermione marry him," Ronald said, his voice dejected instead of angry. "She was supposed to marry me."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Yeah, she was, but this is bigger than you or her. This is about the future of the world. My children, as well as yours, will have a better future because of this treaty."

"I won't have any children without Hermione," Ronald insisted, collapsing into a chair, his limbs spread around him. "No other girl will marry a poor Weasley."

Harry smiled. "Don't let money be the reason you give up on a family, Ron. There are plenty of women who like you, and if you play your cards right, there are plenty of women who would want to marry you."

Ronald looked up, hope shining on his face. "Do you think?"

"Yeah, as long as you court one at a time!"

"I just can't help but think that Hermione is the one I'm supposed to be with," Ronald said, his face falling again. Harry took the seat beside him.

"You can think that all you want, but she isn't the one. You will be alone forever if you keep thinking that way."

Ronald sighed heavily. Harry stood and held out a hand for Ronald to take.

"Come on, you have to help me get married."

**~DM&HG~**

Draco found himself fidgeting and the bottom of the stairs in Grimmauld Place waiting for his fiancée to make an appearance. His hands, normally steady, were shaky and clammy. He couldn't stop thinking about her flushed face, her wild hair, and her soft hand in his. He ran his fingers through his hair for the umpteenth time in the past few minutes and started pacing.

He knew she was a proper woman, and she would never dream of acting on the lust he saw in her eyes while they dueled. Dully, he could hear the sound of Harry and Ginny's wedding filling up seats; they had invited very few people other than family, but the family that they did invite were boisterous and probably all Weasleys. But Draco decided to attend mainly because Hermione would be there.

A sound caught his attention and he brought his eyes to the top of the stairs once more. But it was Ginevra, breathtaking in a white gown adorned with pearls and lace. As proper as ever, Draco offered her his hand as she stepped down the stairs.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready to walk down the aisle?" He asked.

Ginevra gave him a sly smile. "Yes, but I wanted to see this first."

"See what?"

Another sound, similar to the one Ginevra made, caught his attention at the top of the stairs and suddenly, his lungs were empty. Hermione was wearing the dress he had made for her, and she looked positively awe-inducing. Her wild hair was done up, exposing her long, elegant neck, and her lips pressed with something that made them redder and fuller. The purple made her skin creamy and inviting and Draco was suddenly holding onto the banister to support himself. He heard Ginevra chuckling under her breath, but couldn't find the strength to look at her. He couldn't tear his eyes from his fiancée.

And it seemed she couldn't tear her eyes away from him either. Her chocolate brown eyes were locked on his grey ones so fiercely he felt like they were going to his bedroom instead of a wedding. Her small tongue darted out to wet her lips and he felt his knees tremble.

He suddenly wished this was his wedding, that a trembling Hermione would be in his bed by the end of the night so he could feel like this night was leading to something other than a kiss on the hand. The implications of that thought hit him so hard he almost fell over. He didn't love Hermione Granger, but he knew in that moment that he could. He had never been infatuated with a woman the way he was with her, right then.

She took his hand at the foot of the stairs and he couldn't figure out if she was shaking or if he was. She looked just as troubled by that as he did, and Ginevra finally broke the thick, tension filled silence.

"Right, well, I'm supposed to be getting married so I'm just gonna go," she said, a laugh in her voice. "You two enjoy."

Draco didn't even notice that she left. Hermione's voice was the only one that could break his spell, but it didn't take long before she spoke.

"We should go," she said softly.

Draco nodded and shook his head to dispel the thoughts that had taken up lodging in his mind. If he couldn't shake them, this night was going to become very improper indeed.


	4. Chapter 4: Maintaining Virtue

A/N: I'm writing this before I publish Chapter Three, so I don't even know if you guys reviewed the last chapter, but I hope you did! Continue to send me your feedback! Also, if you guys have any wedding details that you want specifically for a Dramione wedding, feel free to drop them in the review and I will include them in the wedding chapter, which will be in a couple of chapters from now.

Disclaimer: I write things that are not Harry Potter, and thus this is not my stuff.

Chapter Four: Maintaining Virtue

"Do you, Harry James Potter, take Ginevra Muriel Weasley to be your lawfully wedded wife, to honor and love as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Harry said, squeezing Ginevra's hands gently.

Draco, seated beside Hermione, squeezed her hand, mirroring the movement of Harry and Ginevra only a few feet away. She turned to him, tears shining in her eyes, and Draco felt himself smile against his will. She turned back to her friends, and Draco let his eyes roam on her profile, greedily drinking in her appearance. Her corset was laced so tight that her breasts were spilling over the bodice, and Draco often found that he could barely take his eyes off her chest.

Gentlemen were not supposed to have this problem. He forced himself to look back up to her face. She had tears freely falling down her porcelain cheeks now, smearing the light pink rouge on her cheeks. Her hair, normally long and wild, was piled up in a clip, exposing her neck, the strong muscles tensed every time she turned her head.

He exhaled in a huff, and she turned to him expectantly. He made long eye contact, and her eyes fluttered sweetly. He almost groaned. She was so innocent, so pristine, and he couldn't stop himself from thinking of the very real probability of defiling that perfection. He turned away from her before he could do anything stupid, but he could feel her eyes on him.

It looked like Ginevra's manipulation had worked. She felt more than beautiful in the heavy, soft dress that Draco had bought for her, and felt her face flush every time Draco turned his eyes to her. His gaze was heating her up from the inside, and she was afraid that if she spent too much time in his presence, she would faint.

He was so handsome, his perfectly tailored black dress robes with a purple trim matching her dress perfectly, his white blonde hair slicked back with the sides shaved short. His lips were narrow, like his nose, and pursed into an expression that looked like discomfort. His eyes, grey as slate, blinked once, twice, three times in a row, fluttering the long white eyelashes there.

He looked like he was carved from white marble, a portrait of an angel that fell from heaven.

"Stop looking at me," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Hermione almost jumped and turned away from him. He hastened to reassure her, "I can't handle you looking at me when you look that beautiful," he said quietly. "I don't want to be improper and do something that you're uncomfortable with."

Hermione felt the heat rise in her again and had to force herself not to fan her face. She squeezed his hand tightly, lacing her fingers between his. He felt his face heat up in response. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Suddenly, Ginevra Weasley was Ginevra Potter, and Harry was kissing his bride, and the ceremony was over, leaving Draco and Hermione in an uncomfortable silence going into the dance that immediately succeeded the ceremony. Hermione, unsure of what to do, stood quickly and excused herself, practically running from Draco.

She was a proper woman, Draco thought, and would be highly uncomforted by his statement. They dueled together, but she didn't like him like that. She had been engaged to Ronald Weasley, for Merlin's sake, it was obvious that Draco was not her type. He struggled to contain his disappointment. He was doomed to be married to a woman he was hopelessly attracted to that was not attracted to him.

Hermione, meanwhile, was searching desperately for Ginevra. Finally, she found her, hugging members of her distant family.

"Ginny," she whispered harshly. Ginevra turned to her, her face positively glowing, and gave her a knowing smile. "I need your help."

"Just kiss him," Ginevra said simply. "That's my help."

Hermione paused. "But…"

Ginevra sighed and grabbed Hermione's arm. "I saw the way he looked at you. I see the way you look at him. Once you initiate anything, you will dictate where it stops. You don't have to be entirely improper," she said, her eyebrows wiggling, "but it is immensely fun."

"Ginevra Weasley!" Hermione burst out, her face flushing.

"It's Ginevra Potter now, and that's part of the reason why," she said significantly. "You two are going to be married forever, you might as well start having fun now."

Hermione felt panic seize her chest. "But what if I'm not ready?"

Ginevra's superior smile faded into a sincere one. "Kiss him, Hermione, and you decide if you want to do anything else. But you want to kiss him, and you'll feel better when you do."

Hermione closed her eyes and exhaled, trying to gather courage.

"Besides, you're a Gryffindor," Ginevra said, squeezing her hand. "Be brave."

Hermione laughed mirthlessly as Ginevra moved on to her brothers, who took turns giving her congratulatory hugs. Hermione gave them a half-hearted wave, excluding Ronald, before she turned to find her fiancé.

He was waiting for her, holding a glass of sparkling champagne, one for her and one for him. His was already almost empty. He looked like his nerves were frayed to the breaking point.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" He asked, his eyes concerned.

She gave him a small smile and a nod. "Would you care to dance, Draco?" She asked.

He gave her an affronted look. "Excuse me, Miss Granger, I'm supposed to ask you to dance. Now, would you like to dance?" He asked, holding out his hand. Hermione laughed and took it.

The dance was one reserved for the bride and the groom, so no partners changed hands. Hermione caught Ginevra's eye over Harry's shoulder. Ginevra gave her a firm "do it" face, and Hermione looked back up into Draco's attentive grey eyes and felt her bravery waver and falter. She looked back for Ginevra and shook her head frantically.

Draco, who noticed their movements, moved his head slightly into Hermione's eye line to catch her attention. "Is everything okay?" He asked.

Hermione, caught off guard, nodded without thinking. He pursed his lips, not quite believing her. When he caught her eyes wandering again, he pulled her closer to his chest by the waist and whispered in her ear. "You're beginning to make me nervous, Hermione."

Her knees weakened momentarily, and she tightened her hold on his shoulder. He took that as a good sign and pressed his advantage. "You're going to make me think that you don't want to be around me," he said, lowering his voice so it was nothing more than a quiet rumble in her ear that echoed to her chest.

He felt her exhale and snuck a peek at her face. Her eyes were closed, her lower lip caught in her teeth. "You do want to be around me, right?" He asked. She whimpered in response, and Draco felt success in his hands.

"Of course," she said after a second.

Draco slowly stopped their leisurely dancing. "Hermione," he whispered. "Look at me."

She pulled away to better see his face.

"What's wrong?" He asked, knowing very well what was wrong. Or rather, what wasn't wrong.

Instead of answering, Hermione snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. Her lips were hesitant and he was sure they were trembling, but he didn't care. He cupped her face gently and tilted her chin up for better access and kissed her deeply and softly all at once. Aware of their surroundings, he quickly pulled away. She fluttered her brown eyes open, and Draco had to look over her shoulder so he wouldn't get distracted by her heaving chest.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"For what?" He asked.

"I was trying to be brave," she answered.

He almost laughed out loud. "That was very brave, Hermione, but you know what would be even more brave?"

She stared up at him with her big doe eyes. "What?"

He grabbed her hand and tugged her off the dance floor. He glanced back for a second, feeling eyes on him, and locked eyes with the new Mrs. Potter. She winked, and he mouthed "Thank you."

He led her to the gardens, where they could be surrounded by the flowers that he realized Hermione loved so much. He led her to a particularly lush place, full of pale roses and dark green ivy, and finally turned to her.

"Now that we're alone…" he trailed off. She looked, if possible, even more terrified than she did on the dance floor, and Draco found himself feeling guilty. "I'm not trying to make you do anything you're uncomfortable with, Hermione," he assured her. "I just wanted to be able to kiss you without being gauche in front of the whole Weasley family. I figured you didn't want Ron to see that."

She smiled. "You're right."

He tilted his head to smile at her. "I didn't know you felt that way about me."

She lowered her eyes.

"Are you ashamed that you feel those things for me?" Draco asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"You were my enemy," she answered, as if that explained everything.

Draco smirked. "Yes, and now I'm your fiancé. Things change."

Hermione nodded. "I suppose you're right. But it's a new feeling for me."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Affection for me? Or…something else?"

She didn't respond. Draco decided to press his advantage. He stepped closer to her, pressing her gently into the wall of the garden. She complied, her eyes locked on his the whole time.

"What exactly do you feel for me, Hermione?" He asked. "Affection?"

She didn't answer. He placed a hand softly on her waist and trailed the hand slowly up her bodice. "Attraction?" He asked tentatively. He trailed his hand even higher on her ribcage, eliciting a sharp inhale from her. He stopped his hand. "Infatuation?" His hand resumed his movements, reaching, without an answer, to the top of her breasts. He slowly traced the delicate skin there. She did not answer the question, but a small breath tumbled out of her mouth, a soft encouragement.

He ceased his questions and studied her face in the dim light, her eyes closed, mouth parted, hands fisted in his jacket. This was his future wife. He felt himself harden and closed his eyes against his arousal, trying to squash it. He would not pressure her to give up her virtue before their wedding night. But he could definitely kiss her before that, right?

He managed to sneak closer to her while her eyes were closed and pressed his warm mouth to hers. She jumped slightly in surprise, but responded immediately with a vigor that made him, if possible, even more aroused than he was a moment before. He groaned into her and slipped his warm tongue into her mouth, exploring the sweet taste of her. She was sighing sweetly against everything he did, and he had to quickly pull himself away from her deliciousness before he got carried away.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, pressing his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry, but we should stop."

She opened her eyes, somehow even brighter in the darkness, and he felt her magic press against him, a specific change in the atmosphere that made her, if possible, even sexier than she was before. "But I don't want to stop," she whispered.

Her magic was heightening her senses. "Your magic," he said, unable to think straight while he was looking into her depthless eyes while he still remembered what her soft skin felt like in his hands.

"My magic what?" She asked again, her voice dipping low. She reached out a hand and slid her hand under his jacket, the warmth of her skin getting closer to his own. He felt his resolve weaken once more and growled, pushing himself closer to her so she could feel exactly what she was doing to him. She gasped in response, but didn't push him away.

"I'm gonna…Manor," he gasped out, groping for his wand. She nodded, pressing her lips to the junction of his throat, and he was suddenly worried about Splinching them.

But they made it, appearing silently in his chambers at the Manor, and she was pulling him to the large four-poster bed. He shook his head, trying to shake clear the clouds that her magic was putting there, dark lustful thoughts.

"Stop, stop for a second," he said. "You don't want to do this, Hermione."

She was leaning back on his pillows, her breasts presented to him so beautifully he almost damned himself and jumped on top of her. "Why not?"

"Do you really want to do this before you get married?" He asked. "Give up your virtue?"

She didn't answer, and the more he looked at her, the less he cared about her answer or his reservations. But he resolved not to have sex with her. Instead, he lowered himself to her body reverently, kissing her neck and the tops of her breasts gently before pushing up her skirts. She gasped when his hands touched her bare legs, and bucked her hips when his hands strayed anywhere close to her thighs. He chuckled at her beautiful responsiveness.

Everything he did was the right thing. Her soft moans and sighs were igniting a fire in his veins that he couldn't put out. He clutched at her like he was afraid he might fly away. He kissed her calf as if it was the most precious thing he had ever found. She shivered.

"What are you doing?" She asked, suddenly self-conscious. Draco pulled himself up to her and gently pushed her back into the pillows.

"Shh, just lie back," he soothed. "I will not take your virtue, but that doesn't mean I can't give you pleasure that you deserve."

She looked terrified, her bravery diminishing. He kissed her fiercely and passionately. "Do you trust me?" He asked delicately. She nodded. "Then just lie back."

She settled back into the pillows as he lowered himself back to her exposed legs. He peppered kisses up her calf, lingering on the inside of her knees. He suckled the untouched skin of her thighs, feeling the desperation of his arousal in his pants at her response, and slowly teased his way to her soft center. His tongue darted out to lick the perfect skin there, and she moaned his name. He felt himself tremble at the sound, and licked her a little faster in appreciation.

Her hands tangled themselves in her hair, and he reverently licked and sucked her sensitive bud, eliciting more beautiful sounds from her breathless mouth. He could feel her muscles tighten next to him, and slowly massaged her thighs, soothing her.

"Just let go, Hermione," he whispered against the soft skin of her thigh. "Let go."

He licked her slowly again, gradually increasing speed and pressure until her sounds all but stopped while she held her breath.

"Breathe, sweetheart, breathe," he said. The time it took him to speak caused her to moan unhappily at the lack of contact, and he gave a throaty chuckle before continuing. She shuddered a sigh and he felt her muscles tighten and he moaned against her in anticipation. He gently traced her with his finger and teased her opening softly, causing her to shatter against his mouth. Her body shivered and he released her legs to caress her breasts while she came for the first time.

By the time she was coherent again, he was beside her, tracing small designs into her arm. She turned to him, her face already flushed, and he held up a hand before she could speak.

"I don't want to hear apologies," he said. "I know, even in your magic-clouded mind, that you don't want to lose your virtue. So I saved it for you." He pressed a kiss to her mouth. "But that felt good, right?" He asked, suddenly self-conscious.

She let out an almost hysterical laugh, covering her face with her hands, and when she moved them away, there were tears in her eyes.

"What have you done?" She asked, giggles still falling from her mouth. Draco, suddenly frightened, sat up straight in the bed, but she pulled him closer to her. "No no, I mean, I'm crying and I don't know why."

"It's the endorphins, I suppose," Draco answered weakly. "Holy Merlin, I was scared."

Hermione turned on her side and cuddled into his torso. "Thank you for respecting me, even when I didn't know it," she said softly. Draco didn't answer, but kissed her forehead and stroked her hair until she drifted off to sleep. He would let her sleep for a while before he took her home, he thought reasonably as he drifted off to sleep alongside her.


	5. Chapter 5: The Meaning of Peace

A/N: That is the first time I had written anything close to smut, so I hope that it met your expectations. As usual, thank you for the reviews, I appreciate it greatly! As a note, I'm hoping that this story will be continually updated as frequently as I have been doing it, but I'm sure I will inevitably hit a block and won't update for a while. However, today is not that day! As of late, the story has been more fluff than drama, but I assure you it will not stay that way for long. If you don't believe me, keep reading!

Disclaimer: I wish, but no.

Chapter Four: The Meaning of Peace

Draco woke the next morning with his head cradled on Hermione's stomach, rising and falling peacefully with her breath. He sighed, content, and tightened his arms around her only momentarily. As his brain started sluggishly churning to life, he realized where he was. Or rather, whom he was with. He lurched upward suddenly, jostling Hermione, but she slept on. Quickly, with fumbling fingers, Draco checked the time on his pocket watch.

It was almost eight o'clock in the morning. He was due for a meeting with his father and the privy council in less than an hour. He turned back to his slumbering fiancée. She was still in her dress from last night, and her hair, once carefully pinned, had fallen down around her shoulders. Her face held the child-like innocence that he so wished they could both still possess.

Unwillingly, he prodded her arm gently to wake her.

"Hermione," he whispered. "My sweet, you must wake up."

She woke in a flurry of motion, first jumping upward, then reaching for her wand to hex her intruder, and then turning any which way to try to determine her whereabouts. Draco had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing, she looked so dumbfounded.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said cheerfully.

She looked horrified that she was in Draco's chambers, and even more horrified when she remembered what she had done. Her big doe eyes filled with tears and spilled over, and suddenly Draco was at her side, cradling her against his chest while she sobbed.

"What's wrong?" He asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

She pushed him away and stood up, trying to press the wrinkles out of her dress. Draco followed, watching her closely with thinly veiled hurt on his face. He wasn't sure if she was crying because she was scared or because she regretted waking up in his arms, but he was pretty sure he had never seen Hermione cry because she was scared of him. His heart ached in a way he couldn't quite define, and he wordlessly held out an arm for her to take. She clutched it and he silently Disapparated them back to Grimmauld Place and, without thought to Splinching, let her go alone and Apparated back to his chambers midway through.

He changed from his formal dress robes to his normal ones, fastening the black material tightly over his still flushed chest. He was more confused than he thought he could ever be. He had done everything she wanted, except rob her of her virtue. He had been the noble one, and she still made him feel lecherous with her pure face and quiet tears. What had the tears been for, anyway? He didn't have the courage to ask her, but Slytherins had never been known for bravery. He paced in the space of his room, trying not to look at the bed, where images of her writing underneath his ministrations would haunt him until he died.

Knowing there was still at least twenty minutes before the meeting was supposed to start, Draco flung the doors to his chambers open and stalked sullenly to the council's chamber, ignoring all calls from servants and family members along the way.

His father, aunt, uncle, and mother found him slouched in his chair, head in his hands when the meeting was supposed to start.

"Draco, do sit up straight," his mother chided as she took the seat at the end of the table. "You look like a commoner."

"We are commoners," he said under his breath, but straightened up anyway.

"We are royalty," Bellatrix insisted, taking the seat to his left. "You would do well to remember it, future King."

He rolled his eyes but did not answer. His father took the seat to his right and addressed his son. "We have the treaty, signed and accepted, correct?"

Draco's eyes slid from his father's to the table as he thought. "Yes," he said slowly, "Is there any way we can change the marriage?"

Narcissa cocked her head. "Change the marriage?" She repeated. "What exactly would you prefer?"

Draco pursed his lips. "I would prefer not marrying that girl," he said quietly. "Clearly, we are not compatible."

Rodolphus snickered. Draco's eyes swiveled to him in a menacing manner. "Is there something funny?" Draco asked.

Rodolphus met his eyes without flinching. "Well, you claim that you aren't compatible, and yet you spent the night with her in your chambers."

The room erupted in sound, and Draco found he could no longer handle the wave of talking that was burying him. He stood and, without warning, left the chamber and the council alone to gossip.

Lucius had turned to Rodolphus. "What do you mean, he had her in his chambers?" He asked.

Rodolphus looked, momentarily, like he regretted opening his mouth. "He Disapparated with her at the Potter wedding and brought her back here, his guards told me so."

Lucius's face flushed. "I wrote that treaty because I wanted my son to marry a woman who was pure. I don't want his future line tainted."

Narcissa's voice from the end of the table was cold. "It will still be tainted, Lucius. She's a Mudblood."

Lucius turned to his wife. "She is the brightest witch of the age, it doesn't matter what her parents are, with magic that strong. Would you rather he married a Greengrass girl, the most dimwitted of all the purebloods?"

Narcissa's silence gave him the answer he wanted. Bellatrix chuckled, and Lucius turned his radioactive gaze on her.

"What would the Dark Lord say if he could see you now?" She said, her voice calm. "Fumbling around a room, arguing about a Mudblood that's better off dead? How you have disgraced him."

Lucius lowered himself to his seat. Bellatrix continued, "We have been defeated by a ragged group of children and forced to make a treaty that puts a Mudblood on a throne, and Draco just handed you his refusal to marry her and you're not going to take it? Why do you want him to marry her so much, anyway? Because you want your grandchildren to be smart, frizzy-haired bookworms? Or because you want the next Dark Lord?"

Lucius did not respond. "I want the next Dark Lord," Bellatrix shouted. "And if Draco is going to turn into a sniveling brat because of a Mudblood, then I don't think we need her anyway. All we're doing is biding our time, but why? We have the Ministry, the Order is disbanded. Why can't we fight now?"

"Because we gave them our word, because we lost half of our members, take your pick, we are not fighting another war!" Lucius finally found his voice.

Bellatrix frowned. "You're scared, is that it? You don't want a little more bloodshed before you die? I thought that's what men lived for! But I guess I was wrong. Men are just as weak as women."

Rodolphus was staring at his wife with something that looked a lot like fear.

"If you don't want to throw gas on the flames that Draco already gave you, then I will," she said, and with a loud crack, Disapparated.

Lucius stayed where he was, staring at the table. It was a few seconds before Narcissa spoke.

"Well? Aren't you going to do something?" She asked. "Bella is about to ruin your treaty, and you aren't going to do anything?"

Lucius slowly turned to her, his face impassive. "She's right. All we need to end this in our favor is one opening, and Draco just gave it to us. Let her go. There's nothing that can be done anyway."

**~DM&HG~**

The loud crack that accompanied Bellatrix's entrance almost scared Ronald off his chair in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. He jumped magnificently and turned to her, alarmed.

"What do the Soldiers want now?" He asked irritably. Bellatrix gave him a mocking curtsey that made him raise his eyebrows.

"I wish to speak to Hermione Granger," she said sweetly. "It's about her engagement."

Ronald rolled his eyes. "Great. I'll get her," he said, trudging up the stairs. He found her in her room, still in her dress from the wedding, her eyes red and raw from crying.

"Hermione, what -," Ronald paused. "What did Malfoy do?"

Hermione shook her head as more tears shook loose from her eyes. Ronald was beside her in half a second. "What did he do, I swear I'll kill him if you want me to," he said, taking her shaking hands. She shook her head again. "Bellatrix is downstairs," Ronald said gently. Her face snapped up to him. "She wants to speak with you. Do you want me to send her away?"

Hermione wiped her face with the back of her hand and stood, straightening her hair. "No, I'll see her," she said, her voice clearer than she anticipated. Ronald watched her leave with something like awe on his face.

Hermione found Bellatrix poking at Ronald's forgotten food. When she spotted Hermione, a dark smile took over her face, lighting up her dark eyes in a way that made Hermione nervous.

"How may I help you, Madam Lestrange?" Hermione said, giving her a low curtsey. Bellatrix almost laughed.

"I have simply come to inform you that Draco wishes to nullify your engagement," she said primly. "He has decided that he does not want to marry you, come what may." She stared at Hermione's stricken face, already tearstained. "But you had to know this was coming," she said, indicating Hermione's red eyes.

Hermione lowered her eyes. "Did he say; did he name my transgressions?" She asked.

Bellatrix turned her eyes to the ceiling, thinking quickly. "He said that he simply did not want to marry you, and hoped that we could find him anyone else, literally anyone," she said, smirking. "It seems he no longer thinks you worthy."

Hermione's eyes slipped from Bellatrix's and landed on a random spot on the floor. She felt her eyes begin to swim again, but from tears or shock she could not tell. She had returned to the house, ran from Draco, because she was ashamed of her wanton behavior the night before. She had behaved improperly, and anyone finding out about it could jeopardize her relationship with Ronald, already fractured beyond recognition, and anyone who sought to take her place.

But Draco had been patient with her, tender, and loving, and she had run from him. And now he didn't want to marry her. Because she had tried to surrender her virtue or because she had run from him, she did not know, but it was not within her power to ask. Not anymore. She lowered her head in acquiescence to Bellatrix's statement and turned to leave.

"Don't you want to know why?" The older witch asked. Hermione did not turn around, but only shook her head and kept on her course.

Ronald was waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He watched her carefully as she ascended, her face a perfect mask of indifference, until the telltale crack of Bellatrix Disapparating. Her face crumbled, and he held out his arms for her. She fell into them, sobbing with abandon, clutching at him like she was afraid he would disappear.

"I'm so sorry, Ronald," she said through her tears, hiccups interrupting her speech. He did not respond, but only held her tighter as he led her to her bed. She fell on it, pulling him with her, and laid her head on his lap, sniffling quietly as tears continued to run.

"What will happen with the treaty now?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The hoarseness of it hurt his heart, and he ran his fingers through her hair absently.

"It doesn't matter right now," he said, matching her volume. "Shh, just sleep and we'll talk about it when you feel better."

She shook her head defiantly, but her tears had already worn her to the point of exhaustion, and she slipped gracefully into sleep almost a minute later. He gently extricated himself from her embrace and whispered a Patronus to Harry as he closed her door gently behind him.

**~DM&HG~**

Harry twirled a piece of Ginevra's bright red hair around his finger in their honeymoon suite at the Leaky Cauldron. Under the circumstances of their friends and the recently ended war, they simply got a small suite close by and closed themselves off from the world for a few days as a honeymoon. They would take another one when everything was stable.

Ronald's Patronus sailed in through the window as he was leaning in to kiss his new wife. She groaned and fell back onto the pillows.

"Malfoy broke the engagement," was all it said. It dissipated in a puff, and before the silver tendrils were completely gone, Harry was already on his feet with his wand in his hand. Ginevra was right behind him.

They appeared in Grimmauld Place the same moment that Ronald was making it back to the kitchen, throwing out his food.

"What did he do?" Harry asked, his voice almost a shout. Ronald held his hand up and held his finger to his lips.

"Bellatrix came by to tell Hermione that Draco said he would rather marry anyone else," he said. "At least, that's what I heard. Hermione's asleep upstairs. She was devastated."

Ginevra's face went, if possible, even whiter. "I have to go see her."

"No, you don't, not while she's this upset," Ronald said. "Why does it matter, anyway? Malfoy messed up."

"Yes, he did, but…" Ginevra trailed off.

"But what, Ginny!" Ronald exploded. "What could be so important that you need to speak with her right this second?"

Ginevra turned to Harry, her eyes pleading, but Harry's eyes were just as curious as Ronald's. She stomped her food in exasperation. "It doesn't matter, I need to see her," she said, turning on her heel to go anyway.

Ronald had her blocked before she got to the stairs. "What happened," he asked again, this time his voice deadly calm. "Speak."

Ginevra retreated back to the dinner table and motioned for everyone to sit. Harry did, Ronald did not.

"She might have slept with him already," she said quietly. Harry, who had just sat down, jumped up again. Ronald let out a breath that was much quieter than Ginevra had anticipated.

First she looked to Harry. He looked furious, but knew that chiding Hermione meant damning his own marriage, which had been consummated before the vows were exchanged. But Hermione's marriage was not one of love, and she could not, should not, have trusted Draco to honor it. Ronald, despite his track record, looked positively crushed.

"How could she…" his voice trailed into nothing. "There was so much…"

Harry glared at his wife for half a second before turning to his heartbroken best friend. "We don't know if that's true, do we Ginny?" He asked, his voice hard. Ginevra shook her head.

"She seemed pretty against it when we talked about it last night," she said.

"And why were you talking about it?" Harry asked, his arm around his friend. Ginevra widened her eyes and looked at Ron's tearstained face, unwilling to talk about something that would so much hurt her brother. Harry gave her a 'get on with it' look.

"Because it was obvious that she wanted to, and that he wanted to," Ginevra said with a sigh. "She asked me for advice."

Ronald's voice was soft. "And you told her to do it, didn't you?"

Ginevra didn't answer, but that was all the answer he needed.

"So she gave it up for Malfoy and now he doesn't want her," he said, his voice rising in volume.

"We don't know that," Ginevra protested.

"But she always does what you say anyway, doesn't she?" Ronald shouted back. "So why would she ignore your advice now?"

"I didn't do it," said Hermione's soft voice from the top of the stairs. "It isn't her fault."

Harry's voice was harder than steel. "So he's breaking the treaty for no reason. Rally the Order."

Ginevra looked horrified. Hermione slowly slid to the floor. Ronald looked hopeful.

"It looks like we're going back to war."


	6. Chapter 6: The Stage of War

A/N: Thank you guys for your reviews. I'm writing these chapters a little ahead of time because I want to make sure that I keep updating at a reasonable time. I have a nasty habit of getting to the good part of the fic, and then abandoning the denoument, if that's how you spell it. Either way, I rarely finish my fics. I hope that updating frequently and writing this ahead of time will help me with that. If I don't update in a timely manner, feel free to bug me with PMs or reviews to make me hurry up.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter Six: The Stage of War

Hermione watched almost disconnectedly as Ronald and Harry started gathering old war intelligence folders from under the floorboards in the drawing room. Her eyes were fixed on a spot between the drawing room and the kitchen, but it seemed she could see everything in between, like she was slowly leaving her body. She distantly felt an arm around her and turned to find Ginevra there, her eyes misty, and wondered when she had gotten there.

"We can set up intelligence rounds near Malfoy Manor to determine their schedules," Ronald was saying, laying out the map of their estate on the table. "Our main obstacle will be Bellatrix. She's obviously the most vicious, and, if I had to hazard a guess, was probably the reason Malfoy backed out."

"He wouldn't let Bellatrix change his mind," Hermione heard herself say, as if from a dream. "It was only him."

Ronald gave her a bracing glance before turning back to the map. "As far as we know, Rodolphus is the lowest on the rung of the privy council, and he is often sent on smaller missions, or rather, running errands for everyone else. He should be our first target."

"You're going to have to work faster than that if you want to beat them," came a quiet voice from the door.

Harry's face went hard. "What are you doing here, Nott?" He asked. Theodore Nott inclined his head in a bow to Harry, Ronald, and Ginevra. He made his way up the stairs to kiss Hermione's knuckles softly. Ronald spluttered behind him.

"I came to offer my condolences," he said, his hazel eyes gazing deep into Hermione's soul. "Draco can be a stupid boy sometimes, but he almost always comes around."

"We aren't going to wait for that," Ronald said with renewed force, as if the thought of Hermione with Malfoy again was abhorrent. "We can't just sit around and wait for Malfoy to grow a personality."

Theodore gave Ronald a sympathetic nod. "Yes, I quite agree. That is why I want to help you," he said.

"How can you help us?" Hermione asked softly. Theodore turned his intense gaze to her, and she lowered her eyes almost instinctively.

"Because, little lioness, I know all of the schedules of privy council that governs Malfoy's future, and your own," he answered. "I am willing to tell you all that I know, so you will have the advantage."

Harry looked incredulous. "Why would you want to give us the advantage?" He asked. "I thought Malfoy was your mate."

Theodore nodded once more. "Yes, but sometimes, there is a line. And squandering the peace of the Wizarding World to act like a child is way over mine. Ergo, I am yours to command," he said, giving a bow to Harry.

Harry turned to Ronald, eyebrows raised, as if asking advice. Ronald gave Theodore a long once-over before giving Harry a brief nod.

"Tell us what you know," Harry commanded. Theodore gave him a smile and stepped forward, throwing one last look back at Hermione, who smiled in return.

**~DM&HG~**

"Wait," Pansy Parkinson set down her teacup delicately. "So you're telling me that Draco isn't going to get married to that stubborn wench of a girl?"

Narcissa smirked and leaned back in her chair. "His exact words were that he would rather marry 'anyone else.'"

Pansy pursed her lips. "Well, I would think a marriage to me would fall far beyond the negative connotation of 'anyone,' but I suppose I see your point," she sipped her tea. "So, is that what this meeting is for? You want me to marry your son?"

Narcissa smiled. "You are one of the few women I am considering, yes."

Pansy smirked. "We all know that I am your best choice," she said calmly. "Your only other choices are one of the Greengrass sisters or that Graciella girl," she waved her hand dismissively. "And we both know that my family is the oldest and most pure."

Narcissa took in the young woman's appearance. Her soft, chestnut brown hair was shiny and well managed, her face clear of makeup except for the light rouge on her cheeks, and her dress modest but rich. She looked like a typical girl, with atypical parentage.

"I'll think about it," she said vaguely, dismissing her. Pansy stood hurriedly and curtsied, looking disappointed as the house elf steered her out of the room.

"Bring in Miss Casimir," Narcissa called to the other house elf.

Graciella Casimir was a Polish-French witch with the oldest pureblood family in those respective countries. While she wasn't English, the bonds cemented by having Draco marry her were almost as valuable as Hermione Granger's peace, and Graciella wasn't a Mudblood.

Compared to Pansy, Graciella was positively breathtaking. Her hair, long black locks, tumbled around her shoulders elegantly, her pale white skin stark against it. Her eyes, a remarkable ice blue, were rimmed by full, long eyelashes and plump, dark pink lips. She looked like royalty. Narcissa vowed, almost instantly, to make her royalty.

**~DM&HG~**

"Mate, you can't stay out here for the rest of your life," Blaise Zambini said pleasantly as he strung up his bow. Draco ignored him, focusing on aiming at the distant target. He loosed an arrow and smiled as it hit just barely outside the bull's eye.

"Yes I can, Blaise," he said. "I have plenty of house elves to bring me food, I have you for company, and I have plenty to do."

"What happens when you run out of arrows?" Blaise asked blithely.

Draco smirked. "House elves can do anything," he said.

"Why don't you just go talk to the little Mudblood?" Blaise asked. "Surely that's a lot easier than letting your privy council run Merlin knows what in there," he motioned to the Manor. "Surely you can handle a conversation with her."

Draco shook his head. "No, I can't."

"Oh, come on. So you did something with a girl that she regretted the next morning. Like that's never happened with you?"

Draco turned away from his friend, trying to conceal the fresh hurt on his face. He didn't want to think about Hermione regretting being with him, especially since the feelings he felt for her were so strong. How could he have been so stupid? He should have known this is the way it would end up. He wasn't even sure why he felt so strongly about this girl. Maybe it was her magic that enticed him so; she was so rarely allowed to use it, seeing her use it felt intimate, like they were connecting in a much more serious way than sex could ever connect them.

Draco frowned as he loosed another arrow. He was obviously wrong. She didn't care about him; she was probably already crying in the Weasel's arms while he tried to cop a feel. The thought made him immeasurably angry. His hands clenched tightly around the bow, and Blaise, finally feeling the anger coming off his friend in waves, clutched the bow to pry it from his fingers.

"Draco!" His mother's voice sliced through his anger. His shoulders slumped in defeat. "There's a letter for you here!"

Trying to look unaffected by the conversation, Draco faced his mother to retrieve the letter. She was beaming at him.

"What's wrong with you, Mother?" Draco asked, unnerved.

"Nothing, nothing at all, my dear Draco," she said, pinching his cheek. Draco pulled away and flushed at Blaise's laughter. He clutched the letter to his chest and waited for his mother to leave before he opened it. He turned it over to reveal the black lightening seal.

A letter from her.

He felt his world tilt around him and struggled to maneuver his quaking fingers. Blaise watched from a generous distance as he pulled the letter open.

_Draco,_

_I apologize for my behavior last night, and though your aunt told me that you do not wish to see me and that you no longer wish to marry me, I hope that you will remember the terms of the treaty and try to remedy what has now been broken. If you do not, I fear for not only your life, but the life of your family. _

_I know it doesn't seem like it, but I wish for your family to remain well. They were to be mine as well, after all. Please consider this my goodbye; I do not expect a response from you if your disgust with me is so strong that your aunt had to break the engagement. _

_I wish you all the happiness, _

_Hermione Granger_

Her careful script fractured around his fist as he clenched it. He had told his privy council that he didn't want to marry Hermione Granger, he didn't actually mean that he wanted them to break his engagement with her without his knowledge.

What the fuck had they been thinking? His mind went back to the letter. His aunt. Of course Bellatrix had done this, of course she had taken the first opening to declare war against the Order again. This was perfect, absolutely perfect. Without speaking, he handed the bow back to Blaise, who took it.

"What happened?" He asked, his face impassive.

"They broke the engagement," Draco said shortly, storming away. Blaise hurried after him.

"Who's they?" Blaise asked. "Granger?"

"Bellatrix," he said, his voice quaking almost as much as his hands. "They broke the fucking peace."

"How do you know?"

"I drafted it, Blaise, I know what they broke," Draco said, his voice low as it echoed against the walls of the Manor in spite of his volume. "Which means that Hermione's letter wasn't just a goodbye. It was a warning."

"Why would she give you a warning?" Blaise asked, confused.

Draco felt his heart flutter momentarily in response, but flattened it. She was being courteous, she thought he already knew, so many reasons could have written that letter, the least of which would be desire or affection for him. She couldn't feel affection for him, not if she wasn't contesting the break up.

She could have at least fought. She could have at least tried to keep their engagement intact. After weeks of dueling, after weekends together, after…being together, she still didn't even care enough about him to come to the Manor to ask why he was dumping her. Not that he did, mind.

She must think he was the least gentlemanly fiancé to ever grace the earth. Even worse than Ronald. He groaned just thinking about it. He shoved the letter into the inside pocket of his robes and stormed into the hallway of Malfoy Manor so loudly that house elves skittered away from him.

He found Bellatrix in the drawing room, sipping a cup of tea and whispering quietly to herself. Batty, as usual. He slammed his hand on the table, upsetting her teacup. She did not jump, but instead looked at him with wide innocent eyes that he didn't buy for a second.

"What in the Merlin did you do?" He asked, his voice a low growl. He had rarely lost his temper since the war had ended, but he felt dangerously close to doing so now. She smirked, her dirty teeth showing under her lip, and rose, effectively pushing him out of her personal space. She curtsied.

"I'm sure I do not know what you mean," she said, her silky voice betraying her guilt. Draco snarled again and grabbed her by the throat.

"You broke the peace," he said in a low voice. "Without my consent."

Bellatrix smirked and suddenly his hand was burning. He wrenched it away from her neck. "I only did as you asked. You said you would rather marry anyone else, so I informed her of your decision. And then we found you a new wife."

Draco froze. He had, in fact, said he would rather marry anyone else. Damn it, he hadn't meant literally anyone else! He didn't actually want to break his engagement to Hermione, he was just upset. But he should have known they would react this way. They never wanted their son to marry a Mudblood. He straightened his shoulders. Maybe it was better this way.

But there was one thing he could not deny. "You brought another war to our doorstep. If we lose, there's no way we can ever have peace and this will be the end of the world as we know it, do you understand?"

"But they don't know we plan to attack," Bellatrix whispered, her eyes now bright with glee. "We have the surprise advantage."

Draco's mind went immediately to the letter in his pocket, and he knew that she was wrong. The Order was coming for them, and the only one who had any idea was him. He had to make a choice now. He could act, and preserve the mess they had made, or he could wait it out. Like a coward.

Slytherins were never known for being brave.

**~DM&HG~**

"Miss Granger, may I speak to you for a second?" Theodore's voice was soft, and Hermione found herself agreeing even before she considered the offer. He took her hand and led her out to the small garden that Grimmauld Place could boast.

"I'm sorry about everything that has happened to you at the hands of the Malfoy family," he began. Hermione stiffened, unwilling to talk about such a fresh wound, and Theodore immediately backtracked. "That's not why I brought you out here. I have no intention of mentioning them after that," he said, looking chagrined.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, her voice shaky.

Theodore broke his promise almost immediately when he heard her voice. "No sadness, Miss Granger. Why would the workings of a sniveling brat bother such a confident woman as yourself?"

Hermione's eyes fluttered with the coming tears, and she did not reply.

"You will find a better husband," Theodore promised. "There's always Ronald."

Hermione let out a strangled sob that Theodore didn't understand. He watched her closely, trying to interpret what she didn't say, her body language, and her reactions.

"You don't want to marry him," he said with a dull certainty. "You wanted to marry for love," he added.

Hermione didn't respond, but the way she turned away from him was answer enough.

"You will find someone who loves you, Miss Granger," Theodore said. "There is no question in that."

"How do you know?" She whispered. Theodore looked almost pained at her broken voice.

"Because anyone would be a fool not to love you," he vowed, taking her hand. He paused for a long time, his hand in Hermione's, staring at their connected palms. "Would you let me take you on a carriage ride tomorrow?" He asked. "Only friendly, nothing more. In time, maybe we could grow to like each other the way you liked Draco," he coaxed.

Hermione didn't think that was possible. She turned away and didn't answer.

Ronald's voice broke whatever logic Theodore was about to throw at her next. "Oi, flower pixies, time to get dressed. We're going."

Hermione quickly dressed in her fighting clothes, the only pair of pants she owned, and a fitted shirt that didn't rustle when she moved. She was the last one to enter the drawing room. Ronald spotted her first. She could feel his eyes on her as she descended the stairs. She had worn the fighting clothes a lot during the war, but he never seemed to tire of looking at her in them. This time, she could feel Theodore's eyes on her as well.

She stood beside Ginevra, in front of Harry, and bowed her head. He touched her shoulder first, and then his wife's.

"I hereby give you both permission to use your magic in whatever way you see fit in this battle. You may use your magic to whatever extent you wish, and I give you my permission to do as you wish with it until this battle and this war has reached its end," he touched Hermione's forehead and Ginevra's, and passed them their wands. Hermione took hers happily and pushed it into the holster on her calf.

Theodore and Ronald were both still staring hungrily at her, she could feel their magic now. If Draco Malfoy didn't want her, well there were two men in this room who did. Hermione, feeling her magic overtake her again, smirked at Theodore before she silently Disapparated.

**A/N: I don't usually do Author's Notes after the chapter, but I want to impress upon all of you guys that this is a Dramione fic, and it will have a happy ending, but not for a while. So bear with them and enjoy the ride. I promise I'll make it worth it. **


	7. Chapter 7: The Battlefield

A/N: Writing this directly after the last chapter so sorry if I can't give everyone adequate thank you's, but if you guys have still kept reviewing, then it's safe to say that I completely love you. Thank you guys for following this story and experiment thus far, and I hope I continue to keep you guys happy.

Disclaimer: All JKR, not mine.

Chapter Seven: The Battlefield

Draco felt rather than saw the first attack on Malfoy Manor. The only one in that group that knew silent Apparition was Hermione, so the appearance of the rest of the Order of the Phoenix was punctuated by cracking that sounded a lot like a thunderstorm. Draco supposed it was a thunderstorm, after all. They had come for his broken peace; the promises he gave Hermione that his aunt and mother didn't let him keep. He still refused to accept his entire responsibility in this clusterfuck of a mess he had created, but he felt it, deep in his chest. This was his fault. And he was going to pay now.

As soon as the sound started, all sound stopped. This was a sneak attack, he concluded. And how convenient that they all showed up at the changing of the guard, when Rodolphus, the weak link, was stepping up to his place.

Draco hoped he was already dead. That would serve Bellatrix right. As quietly as possible, Draco slipped into the hallway and down to his and Hermione's training room. No, his training room. He couldn't have her in his mind today, or it would cost him his life. He knew there was at least one man out there with his death on his mind, and he would not give Ronald the satisfaction of dying by his hand.

No, if someone wanted him dead, it would have to be her.

**~DM&HG~**

Hermione had been allowed the first strike. She had left Rodolphus Stunned at his post, and against her will hoped that no one would come back to finish the job. She didn't want any part of murder, not unless it was Bellatrix.

She wasn't sure if it was the ability to use magic that elevated her emotions, but she felt her hatred of the woman coursing through her veins like fire. She had claimed Bellatrix as her own, knowing that if it came down to it, she would also have to claim Draco. She didn't intend for him to die here, which was why she had sent him the letter. She hoped he was somewhere long gone by now, because if he wasn't, Ronald would claim him first.

And Draco would have to be on his guard.

When they reached the drawing room, Hermione motioned for the group to split. Harry went one way with Ginevra, Ronald alone, and Theodore with Hermione. She crept slowly toward what she knew was the privy council chamber, knowing that if Bellatrix was lurking anywhere, it would be where she thought she held the most power.

She was not wrong.

**~DM&HG~**

Harry clutched Ginevra's hand tightly as they crept through the dark hallways of the Manor. This wasn't right; everything was too quiet. Ginevra clutched his hand in the dark. He turned his head only a fraction toward her so he could see her face.

Her wide eyes told him that there was someone at the end of the hall that he couldn't quite see yet. Her potent, pent up magic had already alerted her. He gave her a nod and crept a little ahead of her. He felt her wrist come to rest on his shoulder, her wand out, and heard her whisper _"Protego."_

He smiled and attacked.

**~DM&HG~**

Ronald stalked through the halls of the Manor, not bothering to be quiet. He wanted a fight, he didn't care who it was. Mostly, he wanted Draco's hide. He had seen the way Theodore looked at Hermione, the way he was clutching her hand when he found them in the garden, and it set his blood boiling once more. Why were these snakes slithering around his flower?

A movement caught his eye and he pointed his wand at it. His anger was so thick that it blew up without an incantation. Ronald brushed off his clothes of rubble and continued down the hallway, blowing holes in the walls as he went. If anyone was listening, they'd find him soon enough.

**~DM&HG~**

Bellatrix knew where she could be found; she knew who would come looking for her. The second Hermione and Theodore entered the drawing room, spells were flying at them. Theodore rushed to put up a Shield Charm, but Bellatrix's spells were too strong and it quickly disintegrated.

Hermione leaped behind a chair and paused, her eyes closed, listening for the footfalls of Draco's aunt. Silence had fallen once more. Somewhere to Hermione's right, the silence was only slightly disturbed. She leaped at the chance, firing a Stunning spell at the sound. She missed, and it ricocheted off the wall toward her.

Bellatrix was on the other side of the room, Hermione could see that now. The disturbed silence was nothing more than a sound she had procured to send Hermione in the other direction.

Their spells came fast and hard, and Hermione was almost thrown onto her back when one of Bellatrix's spells came dangerously close to her arm. She rolled to a cover place to protect herself and pulled herself into a crouch again. Her arm was bleeding; she could feel the wetness sliding down her shoulder to settle in the crook of her elbow.

Where was Theodore? She found him, still hiding behind a couch, sending small, inconspicuous spells to the furniture and the walls around them, trying to send pictures falling on Bellatrix to stun her. A flurry of anger hit her until she realized that Theodore was leaving the opening for her. She claimed Bellatrix, she would have to take her.

She stepped out from behind the couch, knowing she wouldn't be hiding again.

**~DM&HG~**

Harry's quiet spell hit Lucius almost before he realized they were there. He toppled over, Stunned, his eyes still open. Ginevra smirked and kicked him in the leg, looking for evidence of consciousness. When she found none, she Transfigured roped and tied him up.

"There's no reason that he should come back to find us later," she said to Harry's questioning glance.

They continued down the hall, knowing that if Lucius was guarding a door, they would only come upon more Soldiers.

They were not disappointed.

**~DM&HG~**

Ronald had been searching for someone, anyone to attack for almost half an hour, and even though he was sure he had blown up almost an entire wing of the castle, no one came to investigate the sounds. Frustrated, he let out a growl and blew up another part of the Manor, this time an expensive looking couch. But then again, everything looked expensive, he thought bitterly.

He came upon a door and shoved his way through it roughly. If no one was going to find him, he was going to find them.

The room was covered in cushion material, two doors on either side of the room. He entered one and found sets of training clothes, approximately the size Draco Malfoy would wear. He gagged indulgently, quickly exiting the room. He went to the next door to investigate.

It was another dressing room of sorts, but these clothes looked a little different. They were…shorter? No, that wasn't it. Suddenly, he caught sight of a tell tale accessory: a comb he had given Hermione to wear in her hair.

This was Hermione's dressing room. For…training? Curious, he started rifling through the clothes, finding nothing of interest. Why would Malfoy have a dressing room in a training room for Hermione? Women dueling was almost unheard of, except, of course, during wartime. But…if Hermione was supposed to marry Malfoy in the name of peace, why would she need to train?

He wasn't sure what to think, but he knew he didn't like it.

He distantly heard the door to the training room open, and whirled around, wand up. Slowly and carefully he eased the door open. He just barely caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy's blond head as he ducked into the other dressing room.

Now was his chance.

**~DM&HG~**

"Aw, little Mudblood has come to play," Bellatrix cooed in her maddening baby voice. They were facing each other now, wands in dueling position, waiting for the other to break concentration. Hermione ignored her, but her magic bubbled up. She struggled to hold it back.

"Does it hurt your feelings, knowing that Draco already has another girl waiting for him?" Bellatrix asked. Hermione's fingers tightened around her wand, and she had to close her eyes when it sparked.

Bellatrix used that opening.

"_Crucio!" _She shouted. Hermione fell to her knees, her jaw clenched tightly. She struggled against the fire that ground her bones. Finally, after almost thirty seconds of almost painful silence, a scream wrenched itself from her throat and she fell to the floor, convulsing.

Theodore watched desperately from his hiding place. Hermione had claimed Bellatrix, the headstrong girl; he was powerless to help unless she asked. But it looked like she wouldn't be asking any time soon.

**~DM&HG~**

Hermione's scream alerted the other Soldiers to the invasion. They were up and assembling before Harry and Ginevra could attack. Harry raised his wand, and Ginevra grabbed his hand and pulled it down. She gave him a wink and pointed her wand at Anton Dolohov. Very quietly, he heard her whisper, _"Imperio."_

His body went momentarily rigid before it relaxed back into his normal posture. Harry watched, astonished, as Dolohov turned to Amycus and Alecto Carrow and said "We should split up. Cover more ground that way."

The others murmured their assent, and the Carrows followed Dolohov straight down the hall to Harry and Ginny. She nudged him with her elbow.

In only a few seconds, three more Soldiers had been Stunned and detained.

Harry turned to his wife incredulously. "I didn't know you could use Unforgiveables."

Ginevra gave him a steady look that shook him. "They aren't unforgivable when they're going to save lives," she said. Harry realized then that he had married possibly the most dangerous woman he had ever come across.

He gave her a swift kiss and led her through the dark to find another one of the Soldier groups.

**~DM&HG~**

At the sound of Hermione's scream, Draco tore himself from the dressing room and back into the training room. Ronald watched him run, marveling at his absolute panic, before he called him back.

"Going to finish her off?" He called.

Draco froze but didn't turn around. "I wouldn't do that, Weasley," he said. "I'm going to help her."

"Yeah, because you really helped her when you broke the treaty."

"I didn't break the fucking treaty, Weasley, this is all a huge mistake," Draco said, finally turning around. "I made a comment to my aunt and she went ballistic. Why would I send that crazy bitch to break an engagement anyway? Don't you think I would be sadistic enough to watch her face when I dumped her?"

He meant the question hypothetically, but it didn't seem like Ronald cared. "I think you're sadistic enough to make her love you and then rip her heart out," he snarled. "You don't need to see her face when you do it."

Draco shook his head firmly. "She doesn't love me, Weasley. You should be glad about that. Maybe you have a chance again."

Once again, he meant the statement…hell, he didn't even know. Sarcastically? Hypothetically? He didn't mean to provoke Ronald, he just didn't feel like answering for crimes he hadn't even fully justified yet.

A curse flew just over his head and Draco felt his patience wane. Hermione, somewhere, screamed again, her voice breaking. "Can't we fight later, when Hermione is safe?" He pleaded. Ronald gave him a suspicious look but lowered his arm.

"Lead the way," he said.

**~DM&HG~**

Hermione couldn't see, couldn't feel. She didn't even realize she was still screaming. It wasn't until her voice broke and faltered that she realized the noise that was puncturing her ears was her own voice. She dissolved into tears. Bellatrix had stopped the spell. Faintly, she could see Theodore, trying to behave the way Hermione wanted him to, behind the couch. Very delicately, she tilted her head toward Bellatrix, and then back to him.

She conceded Bellatrix to Theodore. With one nod, Theodore jumped up from behind the couch.

"_Sectumsempra!" _He shouted. Bellatrix's maniacal laughter stopped as the blood splattered sickeningly against the floor. Her face, already pale, was slowly gaining the color of Draco's grey eyes. She gasped, clutching at herself, and fell, slipping in her own blood. Theodore ignored her and ran to Hermione, who was barely conscious.

Suddenly, Bellatrix's choking and spluttering sounds stopped. Hermione felt herself slip closer to unconsciousness, but Theodore nudged her gently.

"That's not a good idea, Hermione," he said. "If you close your eyes, you might never open them again.

A loud crash made him look up from her body. Draco was holding onto the wall, barely staying upright, his face paler than usual. He looked from Bellatrix to Hermione, both in similar prostrate poses on the floor. He knew Bellatrix was dead, but Hermione. Hermione looked like she was well on her way to joining her.

With a strangled cry, he tried to go to her. Theodore had her head in his lap; Draco didn't even want to think about what that meant. Ronald grabbed his arm.

"Don't even think about it," he said.

"Bella?"

Draco didn't have to turn to know his mother had entered the room. He held out his arms for his mother and caught her as she slid into him, sobbing for her sister.

"Draco," she said between sobs. "Draco, you have to get us out of here," she said. "Kill them."

Draco, shocked, looked down at his mother's stricken, tearstained face. Belatedly, he knew that this is what Hermione looked like when he broke the treaty. His eyes slid up to Ronald. Turning his mother over to the Order would do a lot to get him back in their good graces. He could just, push her over to Weasley and solve all of the problems right there. But she was his mother.

Ronald gave him a look that clearly said "give it your best shot." And even though it hurt more than it should have, Draco Disapparated, holding his mother.


	8. Chapter 8: Author's Note

Sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. I started posting another story (Draco Malfoy and the Goblet of Fire) on my other account QueenofConstellations because I forgot my login information on this account. Since I've gotten quite far in that story, I'm going to continue it and I would appreciate it if you would read and review that story. When it's finished, I might return to this one.

Please and thank you,

Katherine


End file.
